


Free Me From These Fetters

by PetrichorPerfume



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Community: spn-kink, Crying Dean Winchester, Dom Gabriel, Gen, Gentleness, Loving Gabriel (Supernatural), Non-Sexual Intimacy, Non-Sexual Spanking, Non-Sexual Submission, Prompt Fill, Protective Gabriel, Punishment, Spanking, Sub Dean, Supernatural Kink Meme, lake monsters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-11
Updated: 2019-11-11
Packaged: 2021-01-27 16:54:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21395518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PetrichorPerfume/pseuds/PetrichorPerfume
Summary: Gabriel rescues Dean from lake 'monsters' who have placed him in stocks, but he's not quite ready to free the hunter yet. Dean might not admit it to anyone, but he likes being punished, and if Gabriel has something to say about the way Dean has been treating his baby brother Castiel, what better way than to spank him just a little?
Relationships: Gabriel & Dean Winchester
Kudos: 49





	Free Me From These Fetters

**Author's Note:**

> Based on this kink meme prompt:
> 
> "Baddies lock Dean into stocks and Gabriel rescues him.
> 
> He’s not, however, ready to release Dean just yet because a) he knows Dean might deny it but loves to be spanked as it helps him feel like he’s paying a penance for things he’s done (even if he denies it) and b) he knows it makes Dean feel likes he’s being paid attention to and c) Dean has been al title shit to Gabriel’s little brother and he wants to dish out some payback.
> 
> For all that, he doesn’t go too far, frees Dean after, and gets him home."
> 
> https://spnkink-meme.livejournal.com/154550.html?thread=47174838#t47174838

Gabriel had been watching mankind since its dawn.

Many of his brothers and sisters had since turned their eyes towards other things, but Gabriel had never quite seen eye-to-eye with any of them. There were the few he’d taken under his wing at the start of it all, like Samandriel and Balthazar and Castiel. They’d been good, and kind, and loyal to higher causes than Michael or any of his successors had ever given them under their rule. Gabriel had taught them all he knew about their Father’s most beloved and beautiful creation – that of humankind – and they’d never quite lost sight of that, for all their follies.

As an archangel, the river of his being ran deep, forged as it was in the heart of dying stars and etched into the fabric of the cosmos itself. He’d been created last among his kind, but he was still a thing of grace and glory and absolute fury. He was a hurricane, and God was no longer around to help whomsoever stood in his way.

“So,” he began, “Who is going to be the first to die?” He grinned at the lake monsters. How they’d gotten this far south, he wasn’t quite sure. Things were changing in the world. Currents were coming together at the crossroads of North America, and a cold wind of change was blowing in. “Well?” He asked, when none of them moved or spoke.

He raised his fingers to snap.

“Wait!” One of them called out. They stepped forward as one, and made a sign with their hands that looked vaguely familiar to Gabriel. “We are peaceful creatures. All we want is to be left alone. This...” The elder who was speaking made a despairing noise. “This ‘hunter,’ as he calls himself, heard of mysterious deaths surrounding our lake.”

“And?” Gabriel prompted.

The elder sighed. “The local farms drain their waste into our homelake. We have been driven from lake to lake in search of fresh water. Please-” The elder made the self-same gesture, which Gabriel now remembered as one of peace. “We wish no harm to anyone. The pollution is the cause of the deaths, yet this land mammal would rather blame us then see the truth of the matter.”

Gabriel nodded. “Dean? What do you have to say for yourself?”

Dean, who had been stunned into silence by the presence of the archangel, spluttered. “Um. Yeah. Kinda tied up at the moment?” He gestured with his hands to the stocks he was currently in, his head and hands held all but immobile.

An eye roll from the archangel was followed by a heavy sigh. “Let me take care of the land mammal. And your lake.” He made the gesture of peace back to the elder, than to each of the lake dwellers in turn. “My treat.”

Then he snapped his fingers, and they were gone. They returned to find their waters pristine and clear, the fish abundant and in balance with the rest of the ecosystem. The farmers would not be so lucky, and would wake up to find their livestock loose, their pipes filled with concrete, their tax returns unfiled, and other such nuisances. They’d likely find life to be a general pain for the next year at least.

“Dean-o,” Gabriel said, drawing out the vowels. “What have you gotten yourself into?”

“It feels like some sort of medieval torture device,” Dean grumbled. “You gonna let me out or what?”

“Maybe,” Gabriel mused. “Or maybe I’ll just call Sam. He’s only what? A three hour drive away?”

“Come on,” Dean groaned. “Please?” He tried.

“Nuh-uh,” Gabriel tsked. “There’s only one way you’re getting out of this.”

“Yeah,” Dean confirmed. “You’re going to snap your fingers and let me out.”

“Yes, I will,” Gabriel promised. With one great flap of his wings, he was behind Dean, and laid a gentle hand on his back. “But not yet.”

“Gabriel?” Dean’s voice trembled in the middle, and he was reminded that Gabriel was one of the most powerful beings in existence.

“You know, Dean-o,” Gabriel spoke, voice little more than a whisper. “You may not want to admit this to anyone else, but I can see you. Better than Sam. Better than Cas.” He shook his head, and slid his hand down Dean’s back. “And speaking of Cas, you haven’t exactly been treating him right. You claim he’s your friend, that he’s family, but I’ve seen what you’ve done to him. Consider this penance.”

With that, he brought his hand down hard on Dean’s backside.

Dean cried out. “Ow. What the fuck?”

“Count,” Gabriel ground out. When Dean was stubbornly silent, he brought his hand down again. “I said, ‘count.’ Start from one. You’ll get twenty swats, no more, no less, and then you’ll be free to carry on with your day.”

“But-” Dean spluttered. The thought of being made to pay penance, to own up to everything he’d done and said and witnessed and brought about, sounded more alluring than it should have, but he wasn’t quite sure about the circumstances. He’d been hunting the lake monsters – which had turned out not to be monsters after all – for over forty-eight hours. He was bone tired. All he wanted was his own bed and a shower. “Fine,” he said through clenched teeth.

“Good boy,” Gabriel said, smiling. “Now. Count.”

He brought his hand down, harder than before.

“One,” Dean breathed. It felt good. To be punished, to be made to pay retribution for his crimes, even if in this small way. Gabriel was giving him a gift, he realized; a self-serving gift, but a gift nevertheless.

Gabriel’s hand came down again, once, twice, thrice, in quick succession. Dean just barely had time to gasp, “Two, three, four,” before the fifth one landed. “Five.” His breathing was ragged, and though pain was beginning to blossom over his tender backside, he could tell that Gabriel was not using his full strength.

“Six,” he said, when another slap sounded loud in the space between them. “Seven. Eight.”

It was cathartic, he mused, as Gabriel’s hand came down again. The pain made him feel things he usually tried to numb, either with hunting and killing or drinking himself into a stupor.

“Keep counting,” Gabriel instructed him, gently; kindly.

“Nine,” Dean said, contrite. “Sorry.”

“Shh,” Gabriel assured him. “Just count.” He brought his hand down again and again.

“Ten. Eleven. T-twelve,” His breath hitched on the last number, and from his uncomfortable position in the stocks he could feel the beginnings of tears welling up in his eyes, and he willed himself not to cry, to no avail. “Thirteen. Fourteen.” His breaths came in little, shaking gasps, and he sagged in the stocks and surrendered himself to the feeling of Gabriel’s punishment, the rhythmic motion of the archangel’s swats lulling him despite the pain. “Fifteen; sixteen. Seventeen.” He cried out; the last one had been harder than the others and for the first time, he wondered if Gabriel was actually going to stop at twenty.

“Three more,” the archangel promised, and Dean sobbed with relief, even as the next hit came.

“Eighteen,” he gasped out.

“Good. Two more.”

Dean was crying in earnest now, but somehow, the act of being spanked made him feel lighter. Freer. More human. “Nineteen,” he whispered. “Twenty,” he said as the last slap fell upon his burning, stinging backside. “T-thank you,” he found himself saying.

“You’re welcome,” Gabriel said. “Hopefully next time you’ll think about the consequences of your actions before you do something like this again.” He snapped his fingers, and Dean found himself free from the stocks.

He rubbed at his sore wrists, and twisted his head this way and that to work out the kinks. He couldn’t quite look at Gabriel, so he instead kept his eyes trained on the archangel’s shoes.

“Come on, Dean-o. Let’s get you home to that angel of yours.”

“He’s not-” Dean started, but it felt wrong to speak a lie after such a humbling experience. “I mean-”

Gabriel laughed warmly. “I know,” he said, and threw his arms around Dean’s shoulders. “It’s okay,” he said reassuringly. “I understand.”

Dean nodded, grateful beyond words. “You know...” He began, finally meeting the other’s eyes. “You could stick around for a while.” At Gabriel’s silence, he hastened to add, “If you wanted, that is.”

“You know what?” Gabriel said. “I just might.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed! Let me know what you think!


End file.
